“Why do you look so mad? Come on, it’s a beautiful day.” He said to me, fuming on the one beach towel I had thrown in at the last second.
Ugh. I hate it when he is right, which is so very often.
I was mad because I was trying to be spontaneous with four young children.
I was mad because for once, I was trying not to help get swimsuits on, pack snacks and lunches and apply sunscreen.
I was mad because it, of course, backfired.
All four of my children were in the ocean, fully clothed.
And now, my husband, too.
Today was supposed to be about our kids accompanying me and my husband to ECSC- an annual surfing and volleyball competition in our hometown of Virginia Beach.
This was our stomping ground- the way we first met- the way we spent our sun-filled days.
We had a truck-full of bicycles.
We brought water.
But we were there to watch volleyball so we left the rest.
And here they were.
In the ocean.
Laughing, begging me to join them.
What is one to do?
There was no other reasonable answer other than to jump in.
So, of course, I did.
When in doubt,